


another year, another yule

by incandescence



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP, Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: First Christmas, Fluff, M/M, adventurous christmas tree decorating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 12:11:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2850428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incandescence/pseuds/incandescence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keito and Yuto spend their first Christmas together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	another year, another yule

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alchemicink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alchemicink/gifts).



> Merry Christmas [alchemicink](archiveofourown/users/alchemicink)! I hope this makes sense, and that you are not allergic to fluff of the fluffiest kind. ♥

It blinks at him in the sky, blue and gold and white and silver, stars glittering, snowflakes shining. Keito reaches out to touch it, to feel the glassy exterior underneath his fingers, but then a hand is on his, tugging gently, and a voice in his ear, soft and rebuking, “Don’t get distracted, Keito.”

He puts on an exaggerated pout. “As if I didn’t catch you staring at the yellow one just now,” he says, but he allows himself to be led away with only a single glance behind.

Yuto just shrugs, unabashed, fingers still curled around Keito’s hand, and making no effort to let go. Keito likes that. Yuto’s hand is warm and a little callous, but there’s a softness to it that has Keito curling his fingers even more inside the hand that surrounds them. Yuto hums. “That’s why we need to keep each other from being distracted, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Keito finds himself saying as he slots his fingers between Yuto’s. They spare another moment to flash smiles at each other, and then they continue on their journey.

As they get further to the top, it gets harder for them both to stay focused and on track. Keito wants to run into the rink, to dance with Yuto under the falling snow, and once Yuto stops for a long time, mesmerised by a display of bells, twinkling in the night, ringing loud and clear, until Keito wraps his arms around Yuto’s waist, rests his chin on his shoulder, and steers him forward from behind.

“They were really pretty,” Yuto sighs as he plods along, Keito still clinging onto him. Keito nods his agreement and squeezes tighter.

He lets go when they’re out of earshot, when he’s certain Yuto won’t go running back. This time it’s Yuto who reaches out to thread their fingers together, his other gloved hand still handling the climbing rope with which to mark their trail. 

They keep climbing, trudging through the snow, stopping only to replenish their energy, and to adjust the baubles on their warm hats. By mid-afternoon, they’re both starting to sweat, bundled up in scarves and sweaters and thick jackets; they peel some layers off, unravelling their scarves, shrugging out of their coats, and Keito hangs them on the nearest bench after wiping the snow off it with his glove. No point carrying excess weight on their journey - they’ll collect them on their way back down.

And not a moment too soon; a small cottage awaits them around the corner, the fire crackling inside exuding a warmth that pierces them even from metres away. What’s even more overwhelming is the scent that wafts towards them, a rich, spicy sweetness that greatly tempts them, as they stand in front of the house, breathing in deeply. It takes Yuto almost dropping the silver cord to bring them both out of their stupor, blinking slowly and finding that they edged closer without realising. They swap roles; Yuto takes the basket instead, Keito hefts the rope over his shoulder, and with great they effort turn away. Maybe, once their mission is complete, they can visit again later, if it’s not too late by the time they descend.

“You know,” Keito says, a thought having occurred to him, “you’re tall enough that you could touch the stars if you stretched far enough.” They’re so near the top now that Keito can see it, see the smaller incline where it starts to flatten, feel as the blanket of stars ensconce them even more.

Yuto stops humming to turn to look at him. “Silly,” he laughs, but it’s fond, “we’re almost the same height, aren’t we?” He bops Keito on the nose with a knuckle, and when Keito scrunches his face in response, sniggers again. “Let’s try then, okay? When we get to the very top, we’ll both stretch as far as we can and see who can touch them.”

Keito snorts in spite of himself; the very notion seems ridiculous, but it excites him, and so he nods. Naturally, it gives rise to a race, both of them sprinting, crossing the finish line at the exact same time.

His face flushed, eyes alight with excitement, Yuto turns to him. “Are you ready?” He’s dropped the rope; they don’t need it anymore.

Keito nods, once, twice, and then giggling, they stand on tip toes and stretch a hand out as far as they can. He squeezes his eyes shut, as if it will help, and maybe it does because he can feel his fingers inching upwards, but then Yuto whoops, loud and delighted, and Keito opens his eyes to find Yuto beaming, a star successfully in his grasp, between the very tips of his long fingers. Keito tilts his head to admire the star better, rests on top of Yuto’s shoulder just to be a brat; it’s a pearly white with silver and gold trim, and he can’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. “It’s perfect.”

It really is. Keito’s never had a large Christmas tree before, the old tabletop one his father bought him only able to hold a small number of decorations; back then, Keito limited himself to one decoration per year, for fear of running out of space. There hadn’t been a star on top, because Keito hadn’t been able to find one small enough to fit. The one he and Yuto bought is the most majestic thing Keito has ever seen; a rich, dark green, almost but not quite touching the ceiling at its full height, no limit to the branches sprouting out from it in all different directions.

The Nakajima family, Keito knows, has always been big on Christmas trees, but he hadn’t realised to what extent until this year.

“It’s our first Christmas on our own,” had been Yuto’s justification, complete with wide, innocent, blinking eyes, and that is how they came home with a carload full of the Christmas Works: tree, lights, decorations, fake presents to put under the tree because Keito liked the wrapping paper. 

“Ready to turn it on?” Yuto asks, holding up the lightswitch. Keito nods in eager anticipation.

He doesn’t realise he’s held his breath until he lets it out, when the tree flashes in all sorts of different colours, reflecting against the silver tinsel they wrapped around the branches. “Can we keep this up forever?” he asks Yuto, unable to tear his gaze away from the sight. “I’m serious,” he insists when Yuto laughs at him, “it’d be such a waste to pack it away.”

“Whatever you want,” Yuto agrees, letting go of the light switch and pecking him on the cheek.

“You’re just saying that,” Keito accuses, but he tugs Yuto’s arm anyway, turning him so he can kiss him properly, until they have to pull away for air.

They spent all day putting together their tree, not at all unprecedented because it’s them, and it’s _Christmas_ , so later will probably involve some sort of takeaway, and a movie chosen by one, or both of them, shutting their eyes, twirling around in the spot in front of the cabinet, and pointing. They’ll snuggle on the couch, alternating between watching the movie and admiring their tree, and afterwards, nudge each other to the bedroom in the dark so they don’t wake up with cricks in their necks; they have work tomorrow, but won’t need to be up bright and early for a change.

Resting against each other on top of the slope, the sweet voices of the choir carry from the town. Keito recognises the carols, and hums softly along.

“You’ll have to teach me those someday,” Yuto murmurs, long after the last notes have faded away. 

Keito stretches his legs out, stifling a yawn. “Will do,” he agrees. He thinks he has an old tape stored somewhere in a box in his room, one he bought in England as a child and hasn’t been able to let go since. He’ll get Yuto to listen to them, then teach him his favourites.

“Thank you,” Yuto says, not able to hide his own yawn. He flops back onto the grass, where Keito soon joins him.

They stay up to watch the stars like this, heads pillowed in their arms, the rest of their limbs tangled together, twinkling brightly until navy turns to soft pink, and the clouds peek out as it turns to sky blue. Then, they stumble back down, leaning on each other as they follow the winding path of the glittering rope, hearts and minds once again at peace with the arrival of another Yule.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a result of a 3am bolt of inspiration, so I am not terribly sure it makes a whole lot of sense. Anyway, Merry Christmas y'all if you celebrate it, and happy holidays if you don't! ♥


End file.
